


it's not the waking

by Pontmercyingtilthecowscomehome



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Banter, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Mild Sexual Content, Romantic Fluff, au for events of Empire Strikes Back
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-27 02:01:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21929602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pontmercyingtilthecowscomehome/pseuds/Pontmercyingtilthecowscomehome
Summary: Leia wakes one morning before the battle of Endor and doesn't want to get out of bed.
Relationships: Boba Fett/Leia Organa, Lando Calrissian/Han Solo
Comments: 9
Kudos: 68





	it's not the waking

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a chat that FettsOnTop and I had about how Leia deserves some happiness in fic this year. I hope this goes a little ways to further this noble goal!

Leia was the sort of person to do a large amount of thinking. After all, her thinking had saved herself, her friends, and the Rebellion any number of times already. She took pride in her analytic side, had always enjoyed puzzles and mathematical exercises, had personally enjoyed at least forty percent of Threepio’s statistics he had shared… in short, Leia considered herself a practical, calculating woman, who was only sliiiightly rash when the situation demanded it, and never at any other time. Leia liked being right, that was all.

Threepio would probably state some factual date about how she was perhaps a little less than just _slightly_ rash, even without knowing exactly where Leia was, right now.

Granted, Threepio would probably short-circuit in shock if he actually knew anything about what she was up to, in this calm lull before the next big battle, before she reported back to duty tomorrow morning, before she’d head down with the landing party on Endor.

But what Threepio (and indeed, what the whole Rebellion) didn’t know, couldn’t short-circuit them. Because Leia was currently curled up in a warm, albeit not-exactly comfortable bunk, and she was _comfortable._

That was a statistic she’d never known she’d need to calculate. How rarely, in the past four years, she’d gotten to sleep in, let alone sleep in while in a real bunk, with blankets and a pillow and a.. partner. Leia hadn’t thought she’d ever find a partner, not one who could match her wits and her fire, not one who would challenge her, debate her, and care for her. Not one who would be so wonderful and yet so unsuitable as the man whose bunk she was currently sharing.

Then again, Leia hadn’t thought many things. She hadn’t thought that Han would ever admit he was in love with Lando, nor that Lando would save Han (and all of them) from the Empire when Darth Vader showed up.

And she had certainly never, ever, run any calculations that involved her kissing Boba Fett.

Which was a shame, because if she knew how capable he was at making _her_ short-circuit, she just might have done it early.

But, she supposed they’d certainly spent enough time kissing in this last year to make up for some of that lost time. Just thinking back to the night before made a rosy blush appear on her cheeks, the heat spreading down her whole body as she remembered the way his strong, callused hands touched her, the way his teeth had nipped at her tender skin, the way that his voice had gasped out her name.

Even that memory, though, wasn’t quite as pleasant as the simple act of smashing her hand on the still-beeping alarm and rolling over, intent on heading back to bed. When was the last time she’d gotten to do that? Even as a princess, she’d been busy enough that sleepy mornings were a rare treat. She’d told Boba that once, and he’d laughed, saying that life as the son of a bounty hunter was apparently full of more luxury than that of the daughter of a queen. Because his father had let him sleep in, a small kindness in an otherwise stern man.

 _Like father, like son,_ Leia thought, reflecting on the small ways Boba showed her he cared. Letting her sleep in. Letting her into a private holo channel with him so sometimes she could just vent, expressing all of her frustrations with her adorable, idiotic friends. Letting her practice sparring with him, because she was still haunted by the time she’d been captured and hadn’t been able to fight back.

And letting her cry on him, that night she’d had the dream again, the dream where she watches Alderaan shatter into a thousand pieces. The dream where she lost her home, forever. Somewhere in the back of her mind, Leia knows that she hasn’t slept well since that day. Somewhere even deeper in her mind, she knows how strange it is that she rarely has nightmares while she sleeps on Boba’s ship.

Leia also thinks that she might be the first person in a long time to know that Boba Fett has nightmares too. She knows now how to hold him, how to stroke his back as he shakes and calls out in a language she doesn’t know (though she memorizes phrases and recites them into various databases until she learns it’s called Mando’a), and knows that he needs her in those moments.

Because he tells her.

_Stay. Stay here. Don’t… don’t go._

It is a strange thing to be asked to stay by someone whose career will alway make him leave.

It is a stranger thing to want to stay when she knows that her place is elsewhere, far from this ship and farther yet from him.

Boba had let her into his life, as much as he could, and she’d done the same for him. There was little room in either of their lives for romance, or even for partnership, but so far, they’d made it work. There was no mention of permanence, no hope for this to continue much longer, Leia knew, but she treasured this fragile gift of companionship while she had it.

“There’s fresh caf,” Boba’s gruff voice, edged with sleepiness, whispered in her ear. “And biscuits, maybe even a hot shower with...certain other perks when you feel like getting up.”

“What sort of perks?” she asked, still snuggled under the covers. She had yet to figure out why here, of all places, she could sleep so well. There was no guard at the door, no promise that the Rebellion would keep her safe.

There was only Boba and this tiny one-room home he’d made in his ship. It was cold and sparse, with only a large case of holobooks and a small table for decoration. (Leia didn’t count the blaster rack as decor, nor the large first-aid set.)

“Mm, well,” his hand skimmed over her blanketed form, lingering in all the right places, “probably the perks you like best, if it gets you out of bed.”

“And if I choose to stay in bed?” Leia hadn’t thought a great deal of things… but most of all, she had never thought she could be this happy.

“Well,” the bed creaked as he sat next to her. Boba was a solid, strong man, the type that few things in life could easily move. Strong enough to keep going, Leia thought, just as she always had. Boba said, “I’ll just have to resort to more direct negotiations.”

He pulled the covers off. Leia let out a shriek of delighted laughter. “Boba! I’m naked!”

“Which is exactly how I like you.”

Boba moved into bed next to her, pulling her close. His body was so solid, all lean muscles and harsh angles, and yet, he could be so comfortable to lean against. She let out a little sigh as he kissed down her neck, his hands already roaming. His touch was hungry, his breath hot against her skin. He wanted her, she knew, could feel that just from the way his body curved around hers. Just as her heart started to race, her back arched, pushing against him.

But perhaps, she had moved a little too quickly, because the fearsome bounty hunter went flying out of the tiny bed. “Oh! Oh, bantha poodoo. Boba! Are you okay?”

He pushed himself up easily, coming back to standing with a predator’s natural grace. Leia had thought that Boba Fett would be physically strong, and in that, she had not been the least been wrong. Instead of answering, he merely quirked one dark eyebrow.

Okay. Fair. Perhaps a little tumble wouldn’t do in the galaxy’s most fearsome bounty hunter. She patted the edge of the bed. “Let’s try again?”

“Or you could have some caf. Like a normal humanoid, who’s actually awake before it’s nearly standard noon.” 

“Some humanoids are nocturnal,” Leia countered, “why, on the rogue moon of Zani-”

Boba leaned in, wrapping his arms back around her, and flung her over his shoulder. “Cafft, now,” he declared. “Maybe a larger bed later.”

Leia, between her little giggles of absolute delight, protested about being carried around like a parcel. Secretly, she rather enjoyed the view of Boba’s rear in those low-slung sleep pants he wore. But when Boba said that, she shook her head. “You don’t need to do that. Your bed fits your ship just fine.”

“When you’re not here,” he replied, setting her down at his small folding table. There was only one chair, which he always gave to her. He chose to eat leaning against the walls, his senses always tuned to any possible noise that might be unexplained or unusual.

“What do you mean?” Leia finished pouring sweetener into her caf. She’d had to bring her own stash here; Boba’s hospitality did have limits. He didn’t provide her with a shirt to sleep in (though she suspected that was because he only had the one) and he didn’t provide sweetener.

“It’s fine for me.”

“Yes, I understand that, Boba, but I would have thought…”

“Thought what?” His head tilted, his eyes narrowing at her, watching her with an intensity that warmed her up a great deal.

“That um, well, you were, used to that bed. With someone else in it. I’d just thought…” Leia stammered out, though she was rapidly realizing she’d thought wrong. Again.

He shook his head, just once. “Not before you. No.” For as large of an insightful comment as that had been, Boba’s tone gave no indication. Instead, he leaned over Leia and selected one of the meal bars from the table’s bowl of them. She’d thought about cooking for him, at some point, but it had always seemed too sweet, too girlish of her.

“Why me?” she asked, matching his intensity.

He shrugged, just once.

“Boba. Tell me?”

He ignored the question. “So, when you were a princess who was allowed to sleep in until some fierfeking hour--”

“You’re changing the topic.”

“And--”

“And I did NOT sleep in, as I told you.”

He took a large bite of his mealbar. They tasted terrible, but he’d told her once that with the supply he’d bought, he never had to think much about what to eat next. “What did you sleep on, anyway? A bed made of porg feathers?”

Leia shook her head. If Boba needed to change topics because it had gotten too personal, well, fine. She’d play his game. “No. I really did have a simple life.”

Boba snorted.

“As simple as it could be, given my duties,” Leia amended. “And you cannot tell me your childhood was free of luxury. You told me about the library on Kamino and your collection of illustrated holobooks.”

That brought a shy smile to his face. It was the smile she’d only seen maybe three times, the sort of smile she’d never thought would exist on a man like him. “My father thought books were a worthy investment in my education.”

“Mine thought the same,” Leia said, her own smile a little sad as she remembered how little thought she’d given to her own library, always assuming there would be another day to read those books. But now, those holos were gone-and some could never be found again. “But my bed? Since you asked, it was just a standard bedroll. Nothing special, except…” she trailed off, her voice going a little distant.

“Except?” he prompted, finishing his bar and reaching for another. He always ate two. One berry, one sweet-bean. Boba was a man of routine, so consistent that Leia could time her day by his movements. She rather liked it. So much of the Rebellion had been frantic rushes and unpredictable challenges, to say nothing of last minute evacuations. The hours she spent here, on the Slave I, were quite the change of pace.

“I had the most wonderful blanket. It was knitted by the Cudui knot-witches. Or at least, that’s what Papa said. They always sounded a bit like a story; women who traded their eyesight for the ability to see possible futures, who traded blankets for memories from those who came to them. They just--”

“They’re real,” he cut in.

‘What?”

That just earned her another shrug, one of his massive shoulders lifting nonchalantly. “Their future-sight isn’t as powerful as the stories say, but yeah. They’re real. Ran into them when I was running a bounty for Zorba the Hutt, about five years ago.”

Leia’s eyes widened. “Tell me more.”

He shook his head. “You’re running late Princess. Get your clothes on and get back to base.”

It was hard for her to leave, that day. Harder still the next, knowing that the mission would begin soon. They had less than a week to plan, now, and she needed to spend all that time with the Rebellion, not hiding in Boba’s comfortable, small bed. THe Rebellion needed her more than she needed sleep. If anything went wrong, if this new Death Star turned out to be operational… it would all be over.

“I won’t ask you to help us,” Leia said.

“Good,” Boba replied, starting to don his armor. Each piece pushing her a little further away from him. Maybe that was for the best. “Because I won’t.”

“I just…” She shook her head. “This has been nice. Thank you, Boba.”

“Pleasure was mutual, I think,” Boba’s voice gave no indication of emotion, but she knew under that helmet, he was smirking. “Unless you’re a better actress than I thought.”

Leia wondered how much it would hurt her own foot if she stomped on his boot. “Maybe I’ll see you around?”

“If you survive,” he retorted.

“Boba..." She trailed off. Whatever she had thought about him, however her opinion had changed, she knew he would never join the Rebellion. Boba Fett, she knew, was not a man who would risk his life for anyone, or anything, except the money promised by a bounty. Leia thought she'd gotten to know Boba quite well over the past year, and Leia was rarely wrong.

“You should get going, Princess.” 

She had one last thing to do before she left the Slave I for what she thought would be the last time. One small, silly thing that she thought wouldn’t mean much to him. One tiny gesture that she thought she’d regret one day. A simple meal, made fresh and left for him, each part packaged in a portable container so she’d be able to bring it aboard.

Leia had thought a lot of things, but this time, she had thought quite wrong.

The week passed, as did the battle. It was the fight of her life, one fought knowing the Empire had far greater numbers than they did. She had thought they had a chance, though, or else she would not have given her blessing to the mission. She had thought this was what needed to be done.

She hadn’t thought she’d get seperated from her unit, hadn’t thought those Stormtroopers would see her before she saw them.

She hadn’t thought anyone, let alone Boba Fett himself, would come to her rescue.

And when she woke, groggy but free of pain, in that same familiar small bed, Leia thought she must be dreaming. It took her a moment to realize that no, she truly was awake. Because she could smell caf and feel the pressure of the bandage wrapped over her ribs.

But she still thought, at least, a little bit, that it might be a dream, because though the pillows and the bed and the ship were all the same, the blanket she’d been laid to rest under was not. It was a deep green, the same color as the leaves on Endor and knitted from thick, warm yarn. The pattern was intoxicatingly complicated, reminding her of how often she’d fallen asleep tracing the patterns with her finger as a child.

Because this blanket was the same one, in a new color, as the one she’d had as a child.

“Boba?” Leia thought she’d keep her surprise from her voice. She failed.

He entered the tiny cabin room, still in his armor. “You’re up.”

“Where did you get this blanket?”

He shrugged. “Cudui.”

“Boba!”

WIth a sigh, he unlatched his helmet. As always, Leia’s breath caught in her throat as his face, warm, handsome, strong, appeared. His tousled black hair shaded his eyes, just as it had that first time they'd kissed. Granted, this time, he also looked mildly annoyed. “Where else would I go?”

“I, uh, didn’t know you needed one.” Privately, she wondered if he traded a memory, and if so, which one might it be.

“I don’t.” Helmet tucked under his arm, he turned, heading back to the cockpit. “Caf’s ready when you are.”

With all her calculations and analysis, Leia had known for a long time that there was no way she could have saved her planet. She’d tried, over and over, to run a model that might show her some way she hadn’t thought of, some choice she should have made

Because Leia had thought she’d never find a home again after she’d lost Alderaan.

But now, curled up under that blanket, so alike to the one she’d once had, with the view of a table spread with real food and a case full of holobooks behind it, Leia realized she had found a new home. A good one, in the most unlikely of places. With the most unlikely, and yet, most perfectly suited of companions. Because she understood, now, in that way that couldn't be explained with calculations and formulas and data, why she could sleep well here. Why she always lingered here.

Because she’d found home, once more. Not on a planet, but with a person. Perhaps, she thought, Boba had found the same thing. After all, a blanket from Cudui, as the story went, could only be given to someone who that person wishes to be kept safe, above all others. 

Or perhaps, that was just a story and the blanket she'd wrapped around her shoulders was just a blanket.

But when Boba reappeared in the room, to ask her once more if she planned to lay around in that bed until she started growing mold, like the Goiu-Sloths of Kaataaro, Leia had simply said, “I might. After all, I plan to be here for a while.”

And Boba had smiled back at her with that impossibly kind smile she never thought he'd have. She'd thought a lot of things about Boba Fett, that much was true, but she'd never thought she would fall in love with him.

For once, she didn't mind being wrong.


End file.
